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Strife: The Greensleeves Murders/Issue 03
Issue 03 is the third issue of Case 01 of Strife: The Greensleeves Murders, It was written by CamTheWoot and was published on September 23rd, 2014. ---- Issue 03 Previous: Issue 02 Next: Issue 04 ---- Lawrence ---- There was something calm and reassuring about the night winds meeting Lawrence's face. Even if they blew the smoke from his dimly lit cigarette back onto him. he held it at his side, and gently tapped the ashes onto the floor, just to watch them fall. Anything that would take his mind off his brother, Lawrence kept thinking about Vincent's skeletal face, how the Doctors had taken his glasses from him, in case he used them to harm himself in some way. He needed a break above all, guilt as he felt for it, he was glad it was Rowena and Patrick still inside Pinehill, arguing with Doctor Ashwood about his various plans for their broken brother. "Are you alright?" A tiny voice spoke softly from a distance. Lawrence looked around to see Nancy Brodmir leaving Pinehill from the front door. Walking with the strange childish skip with a serene smile she approached him. "You don't look alright, I feel I should ask." "I'm not," Lawrence replied gravely, tapping a cascade of burning ashes onto the floor once again. "I can't stop thinking about Vincent. I mean - I knew he was going to look bad, but... he doesn't even look alive. When I walked in there, I couldn't even recognize him." Lawrence's eyes began to tear up, he wiped the droplets away with one swipe of his sleeve. "He's my little brother, but I couldn't pick him out from a crowd." "I don't know what to say. What did you expect?" Nancy said rather stiffly. "Loosing a child is something people just recover from, I'm sorry Lawrence but Vincent wont be the same again. It takes some people years to get over lost children and others never do. Alice has only been gone a few months..." "I know... I know," Lawrence sighed, stubbing his cigarette against the wall. Almost instantly he pulled a packet of them from his coat pocket and removed another. He looked over at Nancy, shivering in the cold, "want one?" He said, holding the box out to her. She gently shook her head, to Lawrence's surprise. "Suit yourself," he mumbled, lighting the second cigarette and putting the box back in his pocket. "Your Dad's a damn chimney, I assumed you might at least casually smoke." "My Dad also coughs up his lungs every time he tries to speak. I try my best to stay away from them." "Smart girl," he huffed. Nancy had accomplished one thing in their small talk, she'd taken his mind of Vincent, now he was thinking about Alice, which only furthered his depression. He remember her funeral, Nancy and her older sister Janet crying their eyes out, their mother Alison too. He even spied a tear from Terrence, of course the father of the Myers family wasn't as generous. Arthur Myers, that tall grey haired goblin of a man, just sat there, straight faced and solemn, wile Rowena sat at attention next to him, like a soldier called for briefing. Vincent didn't say a word, he was called up to speak several times but he never responded, it was like he didn't hear the requests. The most shocking thing Lawrence saw that day, was their father put his hand on Vincent's shoulder. It wasn't much, but it was more affection he'd ever shown any of them. Nancy and Janet sung at the end, they sounded like fallen angels, Nancy especially. Every note was perfect but Lawrence stuttered on the memory of their words, they sung Greensleeves, Vincent used to sing it to Alice, he asked them to let her hear it one last time. That music played in his mind over and over as he then turned to the images he'd seen that day, how that song seemed to follow him, he quickly shook his head snapping himself out of it. "You should probably stub that out," Nancy said, pointing at his cigarette. The flamed had burnt away all but the end, it was nearly at Lawrence's fingers. He quickly let go of it, and grounded it into the stone brick floor. Surely he hadn't been thinking that long? "Strange time for daydreaming?" Nancy added with a girly giggle. "I was just thinking," Lawrence replied with a grin. "So is your shift over then, or are you on a break?" "I'm done for the day," she replied, she seemed to bounce up and down with joy as she said it. Still with that sweet smile on her pale face. Lawrence looked around at the almost empty car-park in front of him. "Which one's yours then?" "Oh I don't drive," she said. "Don't you live up in Paddington? Bit of a long way to walk, don't you think?" "Dad's picking me up, I usually do walk but he wouldn't have it today." She looked around the car park herself, looking for any cars pulling in. "Apparently it's not safe?" Lawrence sighed, "that's probably for the best." He noticed Nancy shaking in the cold winds, he took off his brown tweed jacket and passed it over to her. She thanked him quietly but rejected, he still held it to her, "Your father isn't known for his truancy," he said. "You'll catch your death out here waiting for him." Eventually, with a warm smile and a nod, she took it from him and slung it over her shoulders. Even wrapped up warm, she still seemed to shiver in the cold. "Thank you," she said, in in the darkness Lawrence could see her blushing. "Look, Lawrence, I know you have allot of work to do, but Vincent needs his family. Patrick is the only one of you that visits him and he's taken note of that. I feel so sorry for him, every time I see him, he looks so alone." Sighing she leant on the wall next to Lawrence, "I don't even know why he comes in anymore. He wont take any medication unless it's forced down his throat, there's just no point." "I asked him that same question myself," Lawrence replied to Nancy's surprise. "I think you're that reason." "Me?" She rasped in shock. "What do you mean." Lawrence held his hand out to Nancy, she paused for a moment before taking the packet of cigarettes out the pocket of her borrowed coat. Lawrence took the last one out and lit in, before blowing a cloud of grey smoke into the night. "I asked him why he even bothers checking himself in, if he refuses to co-operate, what's the point? Well, he sat back with that smug grin of his and started to talk about how he loves your singing." "Well, I'm flattered," Nancy said, clearly confused. "That man is a puzzle," Lawrence found himself shivering in the nightly breeze, perhaps offering his only source of warmth to his short companion was a bad idea. "Puzzle's need people to solve them," Nancy replied with a smirk on her pale face. "Just like Vincent needs you to help him." "I don't know," Lawrence murmured. "I try my best to see him when I can, I really do! But there's always something in the way, some tiny little bloody thing stopping me." He was breathing heavily, he breathed in the smoke, giving him some relief. "Sometimes it's Rowena, whispering in my ear. Sometimes it's Dad, telling me Vincent is a lost cause. Or maybe it's just work or Vincent himself... I don't even know if I want to see him now, he looks so broken." "It sounds like it's everyone's fault but your own, doesn't it?" Lawrence looked over at Nancy, those strange blue eyes of hers, glowing like shining sapphires in the moonlight. Lawrence was proud of his ability to read people, but never her, no wonder Vincent listened to her, the longer Lawrence stood with Nancy the more that harmless little girl started to frighten him, as cowardly as that made him feel. "That's very... convenient." "To tell you the truth I feel guilty," he continued. "From the second I walked into that room with him, I couldn't wait to leave. What kind of person does that make me, eh?" A flash of light shone like the morning sun onto the two of them, Lawrence dropped his cigarette in somewhat shock as he adjusted his eyes to the light. The beam split in two as it approached with a roar to back it up, as a large, grey monster of a car stopped in front of them. A decrepit, broken land rover, that the more Lawrence gazed upon it, the more he realized it resembled it's owner. The door swung open and a deep gruff voice came from the darkness inside. "Get in Nancy," Terrence Brodmir growled in that way Lawrence was all too accustomed to. There was a step under the car door, helpful for people like Nancy, not known for their towering height. Nancy took off the jacket and gave it back to Lawrence, who put it back on faster than he could shiver again and with a single step and a hop, she climbed into the car with her father. A click came from inside and a warm glow lightened the interior. The Chief Inspector looked tired and worn, even more-so than usual. "How did the search go?" Lawrence asked, trying his best to see his superior over the height of the car. He could tell by her grin that Nancy was appreciating feeling taller than Lawrence. "Not in front of her," Terrence sighed. "I'll give you a briefing down at the office tomorrow." Lawrence nodded respectfully and agreed. "Y'know I can't have you running away from crime scenes like that? I was lucky Townsend was around the fill your place." "I'm sorry, sir." "Don't apologize Lawrence, I get Vincent's not doing too great but this is the last time I'm letting you go. I don't care how many badges or awards you have, in my eyes you're still a rookie. Detective Inspectors don't flee crime scenes like that." "It wont happen again sir," Lawrence replied stiffly. His attempts at formalities failed to impress Brodmir like he thought it would, although it brought a sardonic smile a smile to the Bloodhound's face, he even got a sweet giggle from his daughter. "Make sure you don't" He said turning his attention away from Lawrence. "Anyway, I'd rather not dillydally, I'll be seeing you tomorrow." "Goodbye sir," Lawrence reared his head slightly to Nancy and nodded, "and to you." Without an answer the door slammed shut, the light from the car disappeared and before Lawrence could blink, the car left with it leaving a cloud of dirt behind it. Lawrence watched it drive through Pinehill's front gate and out of site. Now all Lawrence could do was wait for his siblings to join him in the cold, until then, he stood still and alone, thinking of Nancy, Vincent and the music that had been stalking him. ---- Paul ---- The morning sun shone behind Detective Inspector Paul Townsend as he sat alone at his desk. Every day was the same, he and Brodmir were the first to enter the offices and the last to leave. His hair fell in front of his eyes, gelled and combed to one side, he pushed it out the way as he examined the documents sprawled out for him. Paul was a tall, well dressed young man with a long straight face and eyes grey as ash. He could feel the bacon and eggs he'd cooked himself for breakfast churning in his stomach as he looked over the case photos. He had taken over for Lawrence when he left, he'd seen the head himself, Poor girl, he thought to himself. She couldn't have been more than eighteen. "Use my office if you're going to look them over," the Bloodhound growled over Paul's shoulder. "You're not going to be alone here forever and well... most people don't want to see that." Paul could have sworn that Terrence was wearing the same clothes he had been the day before, unless of course, all his shirts had the same coffee stains in the same locations. He stroked his graying beard and took a sip from the mug in his hand. "We have an ID on the girl yet?" "I think so sir," Paul replied, looking over at his monitor. With a few clicks a picture of a young girl appeared on the screen. Sweet looking and redheaded, "Cecile Baker," he said gravely. "She went missing last week." "What makes you think it's her?" "The ponytail," Paul said, moving his attention back to the crime photos. He circled a small band holding the teenagers bloodied hair in a careful not. A tiny black band with a pretty little golden butterfly on the side. "Her Father listed it as one of her possessions, it matches with the description they gave." Brodmir ran his hand down his face, the solemn Bloodhound Paul knew so well was starting to slip away. Terrence never was good with violence against young girls, he credited that to his daughters. "Fucking hell," he sighed with a rasp. "We have Baker's dental records?" "Yeah," Paul mumbled, turning the case photos over. It was his job, but he just couldn't look at those images anymore. "I'll email them to the boys down in the lab." "Yeah, you do that," Brodmir replied. He sounded somewhat unimpressed with Paul, or perhaps he was depressed, it was difficult to tell with him. "Anyway, my office now, and bring all that crap with you." As such Paul, packed up all the files he had into a neat little folder, the bloodhound seemed stressed, more so than usual and the young detective had no intention of arguing with Terrence Brodmir. Terrence's office was the largest on that floor. A pine desk sat at the end of the room, and the walls were glass but translucent. The red phone, as per usual was ringing. "Nothing worse than a ringing phone," he said, "Go on son, take a seat." "Aren't you going to answer that, sir?" Paul asked as he sat down, carefully putting the file on Brodmir's desk. He noticed a bowl of sweets on his superiors side, the very same bloodhound's hand was digging around in there. Paul couldn't help but silently laugh, the thought of Terrence Brodmir having a sweet-tooth was too much for him. "Nah, I've spent enough time around ringing phones to know that answering them is a bad idea. When you always pick up, callers will come to expect it, next thing you know the damn thing'll never shut up." "What if it's to do with the case?" Paul asked, but Brodmir wasn't paying attention, he was too busy wrestling with the wrapping of a strawberry lollipop. If there was once thing Paul Townsend didn't expect to see that day, it was a sixty year old detective cursing repeatedly at a sweet. "Sod it," Brodmir growled, chucking the lollipop back into the dish. "And no, it's noting to do with the case at all! It's some old biddy lost in Morrisons or some other waste of time. Besides, I've got to talk to you." "Alright then sir," Paul replied, sitting up straight, standing at attention. "First of all there's...that." Terrence said, rolling his eyes. "Son, I'm gonna be your father in law in a couple of months, you really shouldn't be calling me sir. My name's Terrence, call me that." "Alright Terrence," Paul replied, the thought of calling Brodmir by his name made him a little uneasy, although he should have thought of that before he got engaged to his daughter. He'd met Janet, trough Terrence, two years ago - if his memory served him at least. It was the fortieth anniversary of Terrence joining the force, Janet and Nancy had arranged a small party for him, which ended up being longer than expected. Even Arthur Myers showed up, along with all four of his children, and Brodmir's ex-wife Mary even showed her face. That would have been Janet's work, Terrence didn't want her there, and he seemed to make that rather clear. "So," Brodmir started, chewing on a stick of toffee now. "Any updates on the wedding, or is Janet leaving you in the dark?" "Dark as a moonless night," Paul chuckled. "Nah, she's scared I'll mess everything up, honestly she's probably right. I don't know anything about weddings, parties, or anything like that. I'm just upset she's not letting me pick the band." It was slightly difficult for Paul to speak, with Brodmir loudly chewing, he had a sudden vision of Terrence taking Janet down the isle, making the same noise, the idea made him grin a little. "Oh God, she's not choosing the music is she?" Brodmir asked, he looked oddly sincere, and genuinely scared, Paul decided to simply nod in reply. "Oh God..." he sighed. "We're in for a right old ear-bleeding, you and I. You've heard her music haven't you?" "Sadly," Paul replied, terrible memories of her blaring pop and other nonsense on the radio flooded his mind, and gave him a headache. "This won't be fun," Brodmir grumbled. "How about you join me at the bar during the after party? I can probably get you out of it." "Thanks for the offer," said Paul, not sure whether he was serious or not. "But getting drunk during my wedding is probably a bad idea, she'll never let me forget it." "Heh" Brodmir replied, something halfway between a chuckle and a grunt. "That's true enough, I suppose." With that, Brodmir suddenly seemed depressed, his head lowered, and he remained silent. All Paul could do is sit awkwardly in his chair, and wait for the Bloodhound to speak. "Keep Janet safe, will you?" "Of course," Paul said, stunned my Terrence's change in tone. Brodmir, reached over and grabbed the folder, he opened it and begun flicking through the pages. "You do realize this wont be a one off, don't you? This wasn't a crime of passion, or necessity. Whoever did this will kill again." "I know," Paul replied, there went the father/son in law moment he was somewhat enjoying. "I'll do my best." "Well, that's really all I can ask isn't it? I know that in a few days, maybe a week, we'll get a call and it's some other poor girl. And to go along with that, there'll be one more grieving family. Hell, there's nothing we can do about it, is there?" "What do you mean?" Paul asked. "The scene, there's hardly anything there. DCI DeSantos spoke to the family when the girl went missing, if it's her; we know sod all." Terrence sat back in his chair, and stroked that small black beard on is chin. "All we can do it wait." To be continued... ---- Characters ---- Lawrence Myers Nancy Brodmir Terrence Brodmir Paul Townsend Alice Myers (Mentioned) Vincent Myers (Mentioned) Rowena Myers (Mentioned) Patrick Myers (Mentioned) Arthur Myers (Mentioned) Anabel Myers (Mentioned) Janet Brodmir (Mentioned) Mary Brodmir (Mentioned) Randall DeSantos (Mentioned) Charles Ashwood (Mentioned) ---- Deaths ---- None. ---- Trivia ---- First appearance of Paul Townsend First mention of Randall DeSantos Category:Issues Category:Strife: The Greensleeves Murders Issues Category:Strife: The Greensleeves Murders Category:Strife Issues Category:Strife Category:Pestilence Category:CamTheWoot